Name

Year

Credit

credited As

When you've gotta go, you've gotta go. Oliver Stone couldn't be bothered to find the nearest restroom on Monday when nature called, so he ducked behind a tree to do his business. It just so happens, that tree was in his neighbors' yard.
Sources close to the perpetrator tell Hollywood.com that this is a habit of Stone's. Rather than using the facilities in the comfort of his own home, Stone tends to use the great outdoors as his personal restroom — sometimes as many as three or four times a day.
Stone failed to respond to our request for comment. But, as a source sent us the whole incident on video, we have already caught him with his pants down.
Oliver Stone, who enjoys a good poop in the yard as much as the next dog, is an 11-year-old Cocker Spaniel/Boston Terrier mix who lives on Martha's Vineyard, Mass. Stone, who enjoys long walks on the beach and tearing apart toys shaped like stuffed ducks, isn't aware that he shares his name with a celebrity.
In fact, Stone's owners, Bruce and Lori Stone of Edgartown, Mass., didn't realize their pup shared a name with an Oscar-winning director until his first visit to the vet in 2002. The couple's youngest daughter chose the name Oliver for her pet when she was just 10 years old, and it wasn't until the veterinarian paired the dog's first name with his owners' last name and called "Oliver Stone" in for his checkup that the Stones realized the connection. Needless to say, the announcement turned some heads. Below is proof of Oliver's famous name.
While the bathroom customs of the human Oliver Stone remain a mystery, his canine counterpart's habits make for exellent April Fools Day fodder.
Think this Oliver Stone news is nuts? Just wait until you see what we dug up on the likes of Will Smith, Adam Levine, Jimmy Fallon, and more!
Follow Abbey On Twitter @AbbeyStone
[Photo Credit: iStockphoto, Lori Stone]
From Our Partners:40 Most Revealing See-Through Red Carpet Looks (Vh1)33 Child Stars: Where Are They Now? (Celebuzz)

Robert Zemeckis is a blockbuster director at heart. Action has never been an issue for the man behind Back to the Future. When he puts aside the high concept adventures for emotional human stories — think Forrest Gump or Cast Away — he still goes big. His latest Flight continues the trend revolving the story of one man's fight with alcoholism around a terrifying plane crash. Zemeckis expertly crafts his roaring centerpiece and while he finds an agile performer in Denzel Washington the hour-and-a-half of Flight after the shocking moment can't sustain the power. The "big" works. The intimate drowns.
Washington stars as Whip Whitaker a reckless airline pilot who balances his days flying jumbo jets with picking up women snorting lines of cocaine and drinking himself to sleep. Although drunk for the flight that will change his life forever that's not the reason the plane goes down — in fact it may be the reason he thinks up his savvy landing solution in the first place. Writer John Gatins follows Whitaker into the aftermath madness: an investigation of what really happened during the flight Whitaker's battle to cap his addictions and budding relationships that if nurtured could save his life.
Zemeckis tops his own plane crash in Cast Away with the heart-pounding tailspin sequence (if you've ever been scared of flying before Flight will push into phobia territory). In the few scenes after the literal destruction Washington is able to convey an equal amount of power in the moments of mental destruction. Whitaker is obviously crushed by the events the bottle silently calling for him in every down moment. Flight strives for that level of introspection throughout eventually pairing Washington with equally distraught junkie Nicole (Kelly Reilly). Their relationship is barely fleshed out with the script time and time again resorting to obvious over-the-top depictions of substance abuse (a la Nic Cage's Leaving Las Vegas) and the bickering that follows. Washington's Whitaker hits is lowest point early sitting there until the climax of the film.
Sharing screentime with the intimate tale is the surprisingly comical attempt by the pilot's airline union buddy (Bruce Greenwood) and the company lawyer (Don Cheadle) to get Whitaker into shape. Prepping him for inquisitions looking into evidence from the wreckage and calling upon Whitaker's dealer Harling (John Goodman) to jump start their "hero" when the time is right the two men do everything they can to keep any blame being placed upon Whitaker by the National Transportation Safety Board investigators. The thread doesn't feel relevant to Whitaker's plight and in turn feels like unnecessary baggage that pads the runtime.
Everything in Fight shoots for the skies — and on purpose. The music is constantly swelling the photography glossy and unnatural and rarely do we breach Washington's wild exterior for a sense of what Whitaker's really grappling with. For Zemeckis Flight is still a spectacle film with Washington's ability to emote as the magical special effect. Instead of using it sparingly he once again goes big. Too big.
="font-style:>

It's the finale! Finally! ¡Por fin! Enfin! Endlich! Yn olaf! This long and awkward road has come to an end and they're going to try and not let it peter out on that weird, vacant stretch down by the river. But no promises! At long last, Purrfect the Cat has spoken: we are finally ready, as a nation, to find out who in this great, wide, curious world has The Voice to end all voices! So we're going to get right to it, aren't we? Nope, no we're not! We're going to sing ourselves into oblivion. Might as well give all these kids one more chance to sing on a stage before irrelevancy kicks in, right? What? No! Who put that there! Bad intern, bad!
James, Jamar, and Pip are back to sing “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5 with Jermaine. This is an adorable fellow explosion. This is the one direction other boy bands wanted to go down, you guys. I could gush about the total cupcake-status of all of these dudes, but I'm trying to come off as a totally blasé and apathetic blogger, so — you know. Whatever.
After Christina Milian's contractually obligated mistakes featuring Chris Mann's photobombs, we're treated to everyone's favorite actionable item: making celebrities seem like they're just like us. And what better way to do that than with the age-old blooper reel. Featuring: Noises! Carson's attempt at the funny (“as you'll see I like to do all my bloopers live”) just makes us all kind of sad.
NEXT: Flo Rida is too wild to actually sing
Onward and downward to the sunshine state of mind that is lip syncing! Featuring the aptly-named Flo Rida, who is “performing” with Juliet Simms his new single “Wild Ones.” Juliet was fine (still audibly sick), but Flo Rida is a catastrophe so you're not even getting a video link.
Chris Mann's last last last (last?) performance is The Verve's “Bittersweet Symphony” with Katrina Parker, Lindsey Pavao and her magical, bedazzled ear gunk. No one else is surprised he's wearing a velvet blazer, right? Just checking. This is actually a pretty interesting rendition considering how completely different they all are from each other.
Christina Milian talks to professional spiky giraffe weevil Flo Rida about dignitary relations in southeast Asia before moving onto the most pressing debate of our time: Is there a bromance afoot at the Circle K? The world is so captivated by the question: Will they or won't they? I imagine the producers (and Clarence St. Clair, to be honest) were salivating at the prospect of a potential homoerotic situation to throw Blake and Adam into. I imagine it went something like this.
NEXT: Hall &amp; Oates: America's Original Bromosexuals...?
Hall &amp; Oates are on the show because that movie 500 Days of Summer just came out, right? Oh, wait... you mean that came out years ago and there's no discernible reason they're here? Oh. Um. Well! They're performing “Rich Girl” anyway. Because they showed up, and who can resist the bountiful curls that sit atop the head of John Oates? Can you imagine if they performed “You Make My Dreams Come True” though? Probably too dangerous — Los Angeles would've experienced a self-imposed earthquake from all the dancing and joy. (I have a thing for old melodic pop bands. Here's lookin' at you, Steeley Dan!) Chris, Tony, and Jermaine are all up there playing second fiddle. I wish they had tambourines. Don't you wish they had tambourines? They should totally have some tambourines. Maybe some nice mod dresses with bowl cuts, too.
There's a few more video segments with the coaches but I can break it down for you as such:
Blake is the bumpkin
Cee Lo is the heartthrob
Christina is a diva
Adam is the hooker with a heart of gold
NEXT: The power of Ron Swanson is REAL
I want you all to know that we're in a fight, America. This thing is two hours long? No one told me this! I'm going to be up all night now. I'm getting too old, you guys. Too old for this.
“Superstition” is up next with some older rejects — they don't even get to perform with a finalist! I wasn't really paying attention though because that trumpet player has blinking lights on his fingers, so I can't even tell you what happened.
...WAIT! Amy Poehler? Holy cats, I'm so happy. Cee Lo and Ron Swanson. Oh my, oh my, oh my. I am dying. Dead. On the floor. Here lies the body of Alicia Lutes. She was overtaken by ecstatic glee from the sight of Ron Swanson in a Voice-chair. I don't even care that this is some sort of integrated marketing scheme. I am a sucker for Nick Offerman's mustache 100 percent of the time.
Jamar is getting his second performance of the night with Juliet, RaeLynn, and Erin for “With A Little Help From My Friends” in the style of Joe Cocker. There are balloons! Because friends are like balloons — full of helium that makes your voice sound funny when you inhale.
I don't have to care about Christina Milian after this, right? Do you think she was offended when the producers managed to do not one, but two homage segments to Purrfect the Cat, but nothing about all the brilliant, prize-winning journalism she's been giving us all season?
NEXT: He wants you to belieb
“Wanted You More” by Lady Antebellum is apparently a song that America really enjoys! So they are here to play it. I never got on this train so I can't really comment on their performance but I like that one guy's red acoustic guitar. I'll throw you a video bone here if you're into that sort of thing.
One more Tony Lucca performance. Will it be his new single “I Hate You Christina, Na-Na-Na-Boo-Boo?” Oh, was that a secret? Whoops! Well, okay, here instead is “Go Your Own Way” by Fleetwood Mac with Jordis, who seems like a totally rad chick, but, meh. Here's some video for you Lucca fans who I've heard are now calling themselves Luccadoes (after his Twitter handle) because nicknaming yourself as a general fan base is always a really cute and fun and not-at-all annoying thing to do! Just go ask the Claymates.
Carson's been lying to me this entire time, too, FYI. It's been “a few short minutes” for 800 years. Not cool, Daly. So instead of just telling us who won the damn thing, we're treated to a performance by fetus sex symbol (ick) Justin Bieber. He has a new single! It is a song! I'm not going to say anything else because I have a not-so-irrational fear of the